Hot Number (Hot Zone Book 2)

by Carly Phillips

  He reached for the snap on his jeans just as Micki came beside him wearing a nude-colored bra that revealed soft mounds of flesh and delectable cleavage, along with her darkened nipples pressing enticingly into the see-through lace. His gaze fell lower, to her flat stomach and matching panties, also nude, that teased him with the shadow of her sex.

  “You’re fast,” he said, approvingly.

  “Aah, but I intend to go slow.” A provocative smile lifted her lips.

  She pulled his shirt from his waistband, then slipped the garment up and off easily. Instead of turning to his jeans next, she dipped her head and placed her lips against his abdomen. With excruciating patience, she teased him, running her mouth over his flesh, leaving a moist trail in her wake. Cool air rushed over his dampened skin and he shivered.

  “You like this?” Micki asked, at the same time she splayed her hands over his chest, her fingertips grazing his nipples, turning them into hardened peaks.

  He let out a rough growl as desire shot through him, the ache traveling straight to his cock. If she wasn’t going to move things along, then he intended to. He needed her too badly, wanted inside her wet, willing body as fast as humanly possible.

  He unzipped his jeans and quickly shoved them aside.

  “Commando,” she murmured. “Now that I like,” she said, her gaze on his thick erection, standing proudly at attention. With both hands she eased him onto the bed, and once he was on his back in the center, she straddled his waist, her soft pussy coming into contact with his hardened dick.

  He slid his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her close for a hot kiss, holding nothing back. He thrust his tongue into her open mouth, delving into the deepest recesses and finding so much more than an answer to his sexual need. Kissing her soothed his pain and eased the ache in his soul.

  She squirmed on top of him, her sex grinding against his shaft, as desperate as he was to get closer despite the silky barrier that still separated them. He hooked his one thumb into the thin band and slid her panties down her soft thighs.

  “Please tell me you have protection,” she murmured.

  He nodded. “Not because I bring women here, but yeah, I do.” She exhaled a sigh of relief and he laughed. “It’s good to know you want me as much as I want you,” he said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

  She grinned. “It’s very mutual.”

  He retrieved the foil packet from his nightstand and handed it over to her. “The hand’s not working well enough for me to do it myself.” He pushed himself against the pillows and waited for her to take over.

  She ripped the foil, an expression of concentration on her face. She held up the condom to the light, eyeing it this way and that. “Is there a trick to this?”

  “You’ll figure it out.” He clenched his jaw, his throbbing cock making it difficult to focus.

  His groin jutted upward and she began to roll the thin sheath over him, her fingers brushing his cock. Her lack of skill and yet complete determination was endearing and arousing at the same time.

  Once protected, she straddled him, her damp heat poised directly over where he needed her most. Not about to be completely passive, he reached out and tested her wetness, slipping his finger between her damp folds.

  “Oh.” She shuddered and clenched her legs around his hand.

  Damian grinned. “At least I haven’t lost my touch.”

  “Nobody will ever accuse you of that,” she said and began an easy slide down his cock.

  She was hot and tight, and fit like a glove. He let out a prolonged groan, his body shuddering from the need to thrust. But he wouldn’t, not until she’d begun her ascent and he knew he could take her along with him.

  Damian already felt the urge to come, but he wasn’t about to do it alone. He thrust upward, making sure she felt the full force of their connection. A connection he welcomed as much as he fought to control.

  She grabbed his hand and began a steady rocking motion, grinding herself against him each time she encased him completely in her luscious body. He shifted, adjusting his weight and thrusting upward, over and over again.

  They reached a mutual rhythm, one that came so naturally it would have been frightening if he’d had the time to think. He didn’t. He could only focus on sensation. On feeling.

  She was equally lost, her breath coming faster and faster and faster. Soft cries escaped from the back of her throat and her nails dug into his shoulders as she rode him harder, her body pulling him along for the ride.

  Finally she squeezed even tighter around him. The closer he came to release, the thicker and harder he grew. His muscles tightened and he lost himself inside her.

  In more ways than one.

  * * *

  Micki scoured the cabinets in Damian’s kitchen, but there wasn’t much to eat or even use to create a meal. Instead, she pulled out the box of cocoa mix and used the microwave to make hot chocolate. Just as she finished the preparations, Damian strode into the room, wearing a pair of gray sweats and nothing more.

  The man took her breath away. Her emotions were mixed, a bittersweet feeling washing over her because her one night had passed. No matter how spectacular it had been, it was over.

  But not until she walked out of this apartment. Placing the two mugs on the table, she joined him. “You’re quiet this morning,” she said, wondering what he had on his mind.

  He glanced into his cup. “Did I tell you that Carter and I had a man-to-man talk while I was on the road?”

  She shook her head. “You didn’t mention it.”

  “I guess I had other things on my mind.”

  “So what’d the swine have to say?” She leaned forward on her hand.

  “He took a stab at being human.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding? What’s he really want?”

  “My thoughts exactly, but I don’t think you’re going to believe the answer.” A smile curved his mouth and she was tempted to taste the hot chocolate right off his lips. “He wants Carole.”

  Micki choked on her drink.

  “There’s more. Apparently, their relationship began way before I ever handed Carole over to him. They hooked up back in April.”

  Micki opened and closed her mouth. “Are you saying the baby could be his?”

  “Could be. He’s had it in for me for a long time. He’s been after my job, my woman—he told me himself.” Damian shook his head. “He was the one who called the press that night at Lacie’s and the one who sidetracked our luggage. And, he was also the guy who revealed the paternity scandal to the papers.”

  “Quite a stand-up guy,” Micki muttered, never forgetting for a minute that he’d deliberately gotten her drunk that night, which had led to her public humiliation.

  Damian rocked back in his chair. “I wanted to throttle him, but then I realized thanks to his being a slimeball, he may have taken the load off my shoulders. And the kicker is? He wants to. Even if the baby’s mine, he wants to marry Carole.”

  Micki gnawed on her lower lip. “This is so bizarre I don’t know whether to cheer or hit him with his own bat.”

  Damian nodded. “Join the club.”

  “When do you plan on talking to Carole?” Micki asked.

  His expression turned thoughtful. “The series of away games are over soon. As soon as Carter’s home, I figured we’d do it together. Hard to believe the guy who sabotaged me might be my only chance at freedom.”

  More than anything, Micki wanted Damian free from Carole and this mess, but at the same time, she knew what freedom meant to Damian. No personal responsibilities, no heavy-duty relationships, just a man and his career, she thought.

  A man minus Micki.

  * * *

  Damian glanced down at his hand. He knew better than to attempt to flex. The pain wasn’t worth the effort and immobilization was the best medicine for now. Doctor’s orders, Damian thought. The doc had called with his test results soon after Micki had left.

  Damian was glad she’d
missed the call so he could wallow in his grief in private before sharing the news. Apparently he had nerve damage, or at least slight nerve damage. Once this flare-up subsided, he could choose to finish out the season, but if he continued to play, he’d be guaranteeing himself an awful lot of time on the disabled list next year and risking nerve damage that would likely be both major and permanent.

  Which meant he had to make a decision. If he were honest with himself, the time had been coming for a while now. He just hadn’t wanted to face it. Denial at its best, as he’d told Micki.

  Micki. Who else would have the guts to throw his inadequacies in his face and make it seem like she was doing him a favor? He bit back a grin at the feisty way she’d confronted him. At the time, he’d silently applauded her nerve.

  Hell, the verbal slap she’d provided had awakened something dead inside him. And that spunk of hers turned him on. When he was with her, not just in her bed but by her side, the bad didn’t feel nearly as awful as he knew it should.

  Damian wasn’t a man who wanted women in his life or interfering in his business. That rule didn’t apply to Micki. Ever since that New Year’s Eve kiss, something had been building between them. He’d denied it, a tactic he now realized was his specialty when he didn’t want to face an issue. And when denial had no longer worked, he’d ignored the attraction as if it would disappear. But their chemistry had been stronger than he knew, and by the time he’d taken her to bed, she’d already become a part of him.

  The best part, he thought. Even then he must have sensed how much he needed her because he’d blindly shown up on her doorstep after Carole’s declaration and he’d wanted her by his side ever since. She—and her family—had given him direction and instructions on steps to take in order to cope with the scandal, and somehow she’d kept him focused when he could have spiraled out of control in a panicked frenzy. She’d refused to let him give in to self-pity over his hand and showed no mercy when it came to making him face the future.

  What future? he wondered. With the exception of saving his money for a rainy day, he’d never planned for a day without baseball.

  “Maybe it’s time you should,” he said, mimicking Micki’s words.

  But first, he had to deal with Carole and figure out that part of his life. Between him and Carter, Damian was looking at a fifty-fifty shot the baby was his. Not good odds.

  But he believed he could handle the possibility. As Micki had correctly pointed out, he had the best role model to make it happen. If the kid was his, Damian knew he’d be as good a father as his old man had been to him. He knew this thanks to Micki.

  Damian rubbed his eyes and walked to the window overlooking the park below. Man, he was tired, and not just from making love to Micki late into the night.

  He was emotionally drained. For many reasons. Not the least of which was Micki herself. What would her role be in his life once he no longer had the baby scandal as an excuse to keep her by his side?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Damian and Carter strode up to Carole’s apartment door together. They’d agreed not to tell her they were coming to Florida, afraid she’d have time to regroup. They wanted her moment of realization to be genuine. They wanted to see her reaction to the fact that both men knew the truth. At the very least, their alliance ought to at least frighten her into being honest. There was a damn good chance even she didn’t know whose baby it was, but they were going to find out.

  “You ready?” Damian asked Carter.

  “As I’ll ever be.” He rolled his shoulders beneath his sport jacket.

  The kid had dressed up for the occasion. Damian glanced down at his ripped jeans and good-luck jersey and shrugged. It wasn’t like he wanted to make a good impression at the moment. As for Carter, Damian had to admire the kid for going after what he wanted, this time in an honest way.

  Poor Carole wouldn’t know what hit her when Carter got down on one knee. Damian had no idea how she felt about the rookie, and though he shouldn’t care after what Carter had put him through, he couldn’t help but hope Carole would see some good in Carter and give him a chance, for her sake as well as the baby’s. No matter who the biological father turned out to be.

  Damian drew a steadying breath and knocked on the door. He heard Carole’s muffled voice and then the door swung open wide.

  “Damian?” Her gaze shifted to the man beside him. “Carter?” The color drained from her cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

  “I take it you mean what are we doing here together?” Damian asked.

  She didn’t reply, just stood and stared. Obviously she hadn’t been expecting company because she wore no makeup, a pair of baggy sweats and an oversize T-shirt that accentuated her breasts, made even larger by the pregnancy.

  He didn’t think he’d ever seen her looking so…real. For the first time, Damian saw beyond the artificial persona she deliberately put on and caught a glimpse of the woman Carter had fallen in love with. For his sake, Damian hoped Carole’s heart was equally real.

  “I don’t think you want to have this discussion in the hallway,” Carter said, stepping forward. He grasped her elbow. “Come on, babe. Let us inside.”

  She squirmed and waved her hand, gesturing for them to enter.

  Damian understood her discomfort. He felt it, too, and he stood by the window while Carter made himself comfortable on the couch.

  Beside him, Carole clasped and unclasped her hands. “I can’t imagine why you’re here together,” she said, letting out a nervous laugh.

  “Oh, I think you can,” Damian muttered.

  “You were with both of us around the same time,” Carter said calmly. He grasped her hand. “Now I don’t hold it against you, babe. We just want to know whose baby you’re carrying.”

  She blinked, as if stunned by the statement. “I told you, it’s Damian’s.” Her voice rose to a high pitch.

  “Yes, you did. Unfortunately, those are just words. We need proof.”

  Damian remained by the window, separated from the couple and distanced emotionally, but his heart pounded a mile a minute and his throat was raw. “We used protection,” he reminded her.

  “So did we,” Carter said.

  Damian paced the length of the window, turned and walked back again. “So unless you have a magic way of determining whose kid this is, we need to run a paternity test.”

  “No!” She shouted the word and both men jerked their heads her way. “It’s Damian’s,” she insisted.

  Damian saw the other man’s jaw clench and could practically read his mind. Once again Carter was coming in second to the almighty Damian Fuller.

  “Why is it so damn important that he be the father?” Carter asked.

  Carole wiped a tear from her face and then another.

  Sensing she had reasons he didn’t need to hear, Damian stepped toward her. “I’m going to leave you two alone to talk. And when we’re finished, I would be grateful if you came back to New York with Carter so we can have the test done. If not, we can do it down here, but Carter would miss a game and that’s really not fair to him—or to the team. They need him.”

  Shock registered on Carter’s face. Unadulterated awe. “You mean it?”

  “Hell, Rookie, of course I mean it. In the last week, you’ve become more than a man I just might be able to admire one day. You’re a damn good player.” As much as Damian spoke a growing truth, he said the words for Carole’s benefit. Because she seemed leery of the notion of having Carter’s kid.

  She was selling the man short, Damian thought. Not that Carter hadn’t done everything to earn the reputation, but he was changing and he deserved the benefit of the doubt.

  Carole hadn’t met Damian’s gaze. “Carole?” he said.

  She lifted her damp eyes.

  “I mean what I said. I want that test done even if I have to get a court order to do it.”

  She blinked. “Don’t do this, Damian.”

  “It won’t be an issue,” Carter promised, his han
d still covering hers, only now he squeezed it tight.

  Damian nodded and headed for the door, trusting Carter to handle Carole. He hoped like hell his gut instinct was right and the kid not only had a good heart, but finally had grown up, too.

  * * *

  Carter waited until Damian walked out before turning to Carole. With no makeup and everyday clothing on, she appeared frail and vulnerable. He’d never seen her look more beautiful. It made him all the more anxious. Because if he didn’t get every word right, he’d lose her forever.

  “We’re alone. So, how about you explain to me why it’s so important that Fuller be the baby’s father?” he asked.

  Her hands shook as she reached for the box of tissues on the end table. “You have to understand that I didn’t set him up. I didn’t want to be pregnant.”

  Carter nodded. “I understand. So…”

  “He’s established. He has his career set and he’s financially more than able to provide—”

  Rick felt as if he’d been sucker punched. “So that’s it? He’s got money and I don’t?”

  “My mother never knew who my father was. We never knew where our next meal was coming from. Each guy she met she hoped would be Mr. Right. Most of them couldn’t put a meal on the table.” She shook her head, the tears flowing down her cheeks.

  Carter swallowed hard. “I’m not as wealthy as Fuller yet, but I more than get by.”

  She raised her moist gaze to his. “What if you get hurt before your first big contract? What if you have a bad season and nobody wants you or arbitration doesn’t work out?”

  “What if I get hit by a bus crossing the street? Babe, life is a risk. All you can do is live it the best way you know how and be happy doing it.”

  “When did you become so philosophical?” She sniffed and he pulled a tissue from the box and gently wiped her tears.

  “About the time I realized I might lose you.” Carter knew he’d come this far, not just in miles, but in personal growth. He might as well risk it all. “I love you, babe. Even if the baby is Fuller’s, it’ll be okay.”

  Carole stared at Ricky Carter in shocked disbelief. “Love?”